


Eventually

by lxurelxi



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Disabled Character, Established Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lxurelxi/pseuds/lxurelxi
Summary: It's been fifteen years, but what happened at the lake that night has left Yuta with wounds he can never heal.





	Eventually

**Author's Note:**

> So I've actually never written YutWin before but I'm pleased with the way this turned out even though it's heart wrenching to read. I hope you all like it! Please let me know what you think :)

August 18th 1992

Yuta stared at the date on the cover of the news paper. Had it been so long? Days seemed to blur together when he spent his time gazing out a window. Knowing he’d never get to enjoy the beauty on the other side. Days didn’t matter when there was no purpose to them. Today was different, today had a purpose, a history, a story not yet told. 

Yuta looked up at the sound of the doorbell. From his chair he could see Johnny at the door. A warm smile and a soft cardigan, something that had never changed about Yuta’s life-long friend.

“I’ll get it, Yuta!” Taeyong called from the kitchen.

He emerged with an apron on an his hair pulled back in a stubby ponytail. Johnny stepped through the doorway ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame. “Hyung, it’s nice to see you.” Taeyong smiled and made a grab for Johnny’s jacket so he could hang it up.

“Yongie, you’ve got to stop acting like we can’t take care of ourselves,” Johnny said gently. While still allowing Taeyong to take the jacket. 

“Speak for yourself,” Yuta scoffed. Johnny frowned at his comment and came to sit on the sofa across from Yuta.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Yuta looked to his hands in his lap.

“No. It does matter, I don’t want my best friend thinking something that isn’t-” Yuta cut his off. He didn’t care for these types of conversations. Especially with Johnny.

“It’s been fifteen years, today…” 

Johnny stilled, his words abandoned and all other thoughts of pushing on came to a halt.

“Yuta…” Johnny sighed, “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I haven’t talked about it in fifteen years, Johnny. It’s been so long I’m starting to forget what his voice sounded like, what he smelt like, how he felt when I held him. I’m losing him for the second time”

“Even if it feels like you are, you can never forget those closest to your heart, Yuta.” Johnny placed his hand on his knee. It killed him that he couldn’t even feel the touch.

“Did you know I was going to propose that day?” Yuta bit his lip so hard he could taste blood. “I know we couldn’t actually get married but Sicheng always talked about marriage.”

“No- I- I didn’t know you planned to.”

“I couldn’t get us rings. It would’ve been too obvious. I figured we could have something else. There were these leather bracelets he always looked out when we went out. I had them engraved on the inside, NY on his, DS on mine.” Yuta held his wrist, it was bare, never given the chance to display the bracelet. 

“You never got to give it to him, did you?” Johnny said. He already knew the answer, it was obvious.

Yuta found his anger uncontrollable. After years of therapy he'd learned to control it. However, in this moment it had become so present he couldn't stop it from getting the best of him.

“If those bastards had never come along, Sicheng would still be here! I wouldn’t be in this stupid wheel chair and we’d be together!” Yuta’s hands we shaking, trembling at the thought. 

“Yuta maybe-”

“No! Those monsters should be dead. They don’t even deserve to live in prison! They killed Sicheng, beat him to death. Do you understand what it takes to beat someone to death?” Tears we’re burning at the veins of his eyes, running down his face and falling away. He can still remember Sicheng cries for help as those men held him down, beating him within an inch of his life. There was nothing Yuta could’ve done, they had broken his back in five different places, thought he was dead. 

 

August 18th, 1977

The moment they showed up in the clearing near the lake, Yuta was worried about being seen. As always Sicheng assured him they’d be fine, he was never worried about being seen. He’d cup Yuta’s face with both hands and kiss his nose, telling him “We love each other and that’s the only thing that matters.”

It made his heart ache thinking about how confident he always was, so careless of what others thought. 

There were six men, clearly drunk and had bats, like they planned to play baseball in the clearing. Yuta was trying to forget about them but they were coming closer as they carried on conversation. 

“Sicheng, I think we should leave.” Yuta went to stand, a branch snapping under his weight. The men’s attention were set in their direction. 

“Y’all hear that?”

Yuta froze, the slurred voice was close. He pulled Sicheng behind him. They were trapped against the base of the massive Willow tree. There wasn’t a way for them to escape without being seen. The men pushed past the brush and all too suddenly they were face to face. 

“What’s this?” A blond in the group spoke, a bat resting on his shoulders, a clear threat. 

“Just some buddies out for a stroll under the moonlight?” Another spoke looking from Yuta to Sicheng and then to their intertwined fingers. “Or did we interrupt your evening out, faggots?” He spit on the ground and pointed the bat at them, taunting. Sicheng was pulling at Yuta’s hand. 

“Let’s just leave.”

“No, no, I think you should stay a while. After all… it’s fairly rare to see a couple of faggot chinks. Must be like seein’ a unicorn, ‘dontcha think, Richie?”

The meanest looking of the bunch looked at Yuta squarely, studying him. A sick smile crept onto his face and he waved the bat. 

“Grab the little one, we’ll take care of him first.” They rushed forward easily knocking Yuta to his knees with a single blow of a bat. It landed on his shoulder, jarring him for a minute and making his head swim to process the pain. 

Sicheng thrashed against their holds, but there were five of them. They held a bat across his throat, pressing into his esophagus, he could barely breathe. 

While their attention was on Sicheng, Yuta gathered himself. Lunging at the smallest man in the group he hoped to wrestle his bat away from him. The struggle didn’t last, he was slammed back into the trunk of the tree, sending him back to the dirt. Left gasping for air, his head pounding. 

“Fine.” They stepped away from Sicheng, one still pressing the bat to his throat. “We’ll deal with you first.” 

Yuta tried to stand, his legs shaky feeling weak. Another blow to his knee brought him back down. The pain of dislocated knee was something he’d know before, soccer had never been too kind to his body. But this was something entering different. The next swing went to the side of his head. 

Sicheng was screaming his name, the sound was faded. A deafening ringing went in and out his ears and his vision could stay focused. It was only distantly that he could make out Sicheng’s voice. A soft whimper amongst the sickening laugh of the men and the ringing in his ears that wouldn’t stop. 

“Yuta,” he was crying, “I love you so much-”

Yuta wanted to agree, wanted to tell him he loved him too. That he wanted to marry Sicheng one day; to spend the rest of their life together. 

His tongue was heavy in his mouth, head pounding and he couldn’t see straight. Slowly Yuta pushed himself up from the ground. A wave of violent nausea threatened to send him back into the dirt coughing violently. 

“Look who decided to get back up!” He tried to focus on his breathing, it was labored and made his ribs ache as it came in and out. “Guess we gotta keep you down for the count this time.”

Yuta gasped for air as a swift kick was delivered to his ribs. He felt like he was drowning, he heaved and blood sprayed the grass, painting it red. 

“Y’all ever played with one of them piñata?” They laughed wickedly, dragging their bats across Yuta’s back. “I wonda’ if a fag works the same way?”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out, Richie…” The end of a bat tapped down his spine. He couldn’t stop the tremors raking his body, his consciousness had began fading. 

Sicheng was shouting, pleading for him to get back up, for them to stop. Yuta was choking on the blood in his throat, it tasted rusty, bitter. 

Then the first of the swings came down, the bat colliding with Yuta’s weakened body at full force. The air was snatched from his lungs, he was left gasping trying to get a oxygen back into his body. 

“Keep your eyes open baby, please!” Sicheng was trying to shout loud enough for him to hear, the bat was beginning to crush his esophagus. “S-stay with m-me”

Yuta couldn’t remember what happened next. His consciousness fading as his body shut down to combat against the brutality being done to it. He let his eyes fall closed. 

“And when I come to?” Yuta looked up to meet Johnnys’ gaze. “Doctors tells me I’m paralyzed from the waist down, lungs had collapsed and it was a miracle that I survived. However what they didn’t tell me was that the love of my life was dead.”

Somewhere amidst the retelling of that night, Taeyong had entered the room and sat in the far chair. There were tears streaming down his face. Using the dish towel that's perched on his shoulder to wipe his face. Johnny’s eyes were glazed over, several stray tears escaping from the corners of his eyes. Yuta looked away, it was hard enough thinking of Sicheng, he’d never stopped to think that they had lost a friend as well. 

“Yuta… I don’t even know what to say, it’s so horrible.” Taeyong whispered, he brought his fingers to press to his mouth and looked down. 

“You don’t need to say anything. What happened, happened and I can’t do anything about it now.”

They sit in silence. Taeyong and Johnny trying to digest the gory details of their friends murder for the very first time. 

Yuta’s stomach hurt. He hadn’t told anyone what happened since the police had him make a statement, Fifteen years ago. It felt like he could breathe again, letting everything out and talking about it. His heart still aches thinking of Sicheng but he didn’t feel as suffocated as he once had. 

Gripping the wheels of his chair he rolled back from the coffee table, a small smile was starting to form on his lips. 

“Let’s go see him,” he said softly, “it’s been a long time and I think he’d like seeing us all again… just like old times.”

Talking about what happened to Sicheng didn’t fix everything, it didn’t even fix a little bit. But that was okay. One deep breath at a time and Yuta would heal. 

Eventually.


End file.
